


First Words

by halfsweet



Series: Parenthood AU [9]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Domestic, Family, Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 08:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15682059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: David's first word is, for the lack of a better word, unexpectedly expected.





	First Words

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I know I said in my last fic that /that/ was gonna be my last one in a while but ehhh I couldn't resist this one! I've been thinking about it a lot 
> 
> Enjoy!

Even though David is a few months old—nine? Nine and a half?—, he's already completely absolutely besotted with his son. Then again, he has already been since even before David was born.

David can't talk yet, but he's in love with the garbled sounds his son makes. The squeals, the giggles, the chortles. He loves them all. And there's not a day where he doesn't see Patrick feeling the same.

Both he and Patrick would give all of their attention to their growing _Little Bear_ when they're not at work, and even when they are, they'd always find themselves looking at the clock and counting the seconds until they get to go home.

He'd never thought he'd say it before, but he loves being a father.

And as a father, he always keeps track of David's milestones.

So now, he's both patiently and impatiently waiting for David's first word.

-

“Dada.” He mouths to David, who stares at him with wide, brown eyes, his head cocking in wonder. “Say it with me, Little Bear. Say _Dada_.”

When David continues to stare at him, he repeats again, this time enunciating the word slow and clear. “Da. Da.”

David's eyes light up as he starts to vibrate in his gentle hold, jumping up and down in excitement and making happy, gurgling sounds, which, in turn, makes his face stretched into a grin. “Yeah, that's it! Come on, say _Dada_.”

His heart begins to hammer in anticipation when David opens his mouth. This is it, oh my god, _this is it!_ His Little Bear is going to say his first word!

David spits bubbles before leaning back and squeals, bouncing in his hands again. A little disappointed, he sighs at the giggling baby and smiles, one hand already reaching for a napkin to wipe the drool on his David's face.

“It's okay, Little Bear. You'll get there soon.” He sits back and watches as David tries to reach for a teddy bear near him and whines when his fingers barely graze the toy.

He looks up at the clock, noticing that it's already ten minutes after five. He turns his attention back to his son, who is already sprawled in his stomach to grab the toy and squeals, happy, once it's in his hands.

He ruffles the dark hair on David's head. “Your Mama Bear is coming home soon. Let's prepare him something to eat, what do you say?”

David replies with nothing but a contented sigh now that he has his toy.

-

Sometimes, on the not-so rare occasions where Pete isn't busy planning parties or travelling around the country to scout for his new club location, Pete would come by to their place for a quick _hi_.

If half a day is considered _quick,_ that is.

Pete is sitting on the floor with David and his toys scattered all around them. He and Patrick have long come to a conclusion that whenever this happens, they're not going to be the ones to clean up David's toys if Pete's there.

If Pete's a good godfather, then he'll clean the mess.

(He loves using that excuse every time Pete comes over. _“If you're a good godfather, then you'll…”_ He can make Pete do anything he wants with that opening line.)

“Peeeeeeeeete.” Pete's lips stretch from left to right, an exaggeration on how to say his name.

David, however, remains blissfully ignorant to his godfather as he plays with his toys.

“C'mon, David. Say _Pete._ It's like _cheese,_ but better.” Then, he lets out a yelp when a cushion hits the back of his head. He rubs his head and turns around, pouting at Patrick's unamused expression.

“Pete.” Patrick towers over him, both his hands placed on his hips. “I thought we'd made it clear that you don't get to teach him his first word when we made you his godfather.”

Pete’s mouth hangs open. “But Patrick!”

“No.”

Pete makes a keening sound. “But Patrick! Look at his cute face!” He exclaims as he pulls David up in front of his face, and David giggles at the sight of Patrick. “How can you say no to that face?”

“No.” Patrick deadpans as he reaches to take David, who has been making grabbing motions at him, from Pete. “And stop teaching him how to say your name.”

“Brendon! Help me out here.”

He raises both his hands in the air, looking and sounding not at all apologetic. “Sorry, man. What Mama Bear says, goes. Can't help you there.”

“Yeah, well—” Pete puffs his cheeks, “— _Mama Bear_ likes to suck the fun out of everything.”

Pete lets out a squeak and hides behind a cushion when Patrick shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, David claps his hands and giggles, almost like he's laughing at the fact that his Uncle Pete doesn't get what he wants.

-

Even though they usually take turns to put David to bed for the night, it's Patrick who insists to do so most of the time.  Of course he would love to sleep early, but sometimes he does feel guilty. Patrick needs to take a break once in a while.

Maybe he'll do that— give Patrick a whole day to himself. Or maybe a weekend. He can watch David on his own while Patrick gets his much-deserved break.

He leans his head against the door frame, a soft smile grazing his face as Patrick sings a lullaby to their son, who is sleeping as peaceful as ever in Patrick's arms.

_“Honey is for bees, silly bear…”_

He remembers seeing something similar to this. Although the dark room and the moonlight coming in through the window are the same, but they bring a different atmosphere altogether in both scenes.

He remembers when he was still getting to know Patrick and indulging every food cravings Patrick had. Patrick had let him stay at his place one night, and when he was searching for Patrick for a spare shirt, he stumbled into a scene almost like this.

Patrick was in his room, standing in front of the mirror in the dark, looking every bit ethereal as the moonlight fell on him.

Then he broke down crying on his knees, second-guessing his choice to keep the baby.

But now, Patrick's cradling their son in his arms, lovingly singing him lullabies and looking serene, like everything has fallen into place.

He's thankful—all day, every single day—that Patrick made the decision to keep David and stood his ground. They probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for David.

_“When you wake up, the world will come around…”_

Then, Patrick leans down, pressing a kiss to David's forehead and lingering, and his whisper is loud enough to be heard in the silence, even as he is standing on the other side of the room.

“Mama Bear loves you, Little Bear.”

Butterflies flutter in his stomach, making their way up to his chest and spreading a warm and tingling all over him. Huffing out a smile, he takes in the sight one last time before retreating to the bedroom, giving Patrick some privacy with their son.

-

His parents have told him time and time again that David, aside from his physical appearance, acts exactly like he did when he was the same age— to which he's just gonna take it as a compliment.

It's already nearing 4, and David hasn't even taken his nap yet.

( _“Did you know,”_ his mother said when his parents came over to watch over David one day, _“that when you were his age, it was really difficult to put you down for naps? And when it's night, you'd wake everyone in the house up with your crying.”_ )

He's not gonna say his mom was right, but his mom was right. David sometimes can be difficult to put down for naps, and him and Patrick are just getting used to sleeping peacefully at night without having to constantly wake up every couple of hours to tend to their wailing, ear-shatteringly loud, son.

“Don't you wanna take a nap, Little Bear?” He's carrying David in his arms, just strolling around in the bedroom in hopes that he'd get sleepy. From what he can see, Patrick's the one who's getting sleepy. All warm and comfortable and curled on the bed, he might add.

David blinks up at him, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. All his insides turn to mush just from looking at his son. It's like every time he does it, his heart doubles its size to accommodate the love that doesn't seem to stop growing the second he saw his son as a grey figure on a screen in the hospital.

He chuckles and boops his nose with David's, his stomach fluttering at the sound of his squeals and the feeling of his small and soft hands on the sides of his face. “Come on. Let’s sit with Mama Bear.”

“Stop calling me that.” Patrick chides just as he sits down beside him, Patrick's hand flying to pinch his side, to which he pulls back with a squeak of laughter. “I want him to call me Papa.”

“But Mama Bear is cute!” He retorts, a playful smile spreading across his face and shining in his eyes. “We agreed, remember? We've got a Little Bear. Me, the _Papa_ Bear. And you, the _Mama_ Bear.”

Patrick purses his lips in mock indignation. “You're teaching him to call you _Dada_ anyway _,_ not _Papa_. It's fair game, so why do I get to be called Mama Bear?”

“Well, yeah,” he retorts back, “but—”

_“Ma… Bear…”_

They both freeze at the small sound, eyes wide as they stare at each other for a solid few seconds. Did… was that— did that—

He sits David down on his lap so he can look at him. “What did you just say, Little Bear?”

David beams as his hands are reaching for Patrick. “Ma...Bear. Ma...Bear.”

Between the two of them, he gets over his shock first and grins, matching the one on David's face. He pulls David up to his feet and pecks his cheek repeatedly, laughing. “Way to go, Little Bear! You just said your first word!”

“MaBear!”

Patrick sits up on the bed, wasting no time to pull David towards him and laughing. “My smart Little Bear! I'm so happy I got to be your first word!”

“MaBear!” David looks between them back and forth, his face lighting up as if he's rejoicing with his parents as well. “MaBear! MaBear!”

“Guess it's not so bad to be called Mama Bear now, huh?” He asks, unable to keep the smug tone out of his voice.

Patrick rolls his eyes, though there's a fond and proud smile that's badly concealed. “Yeah, okay. I guess being called _Mama Bear_ isn't that bad.”

**Author's Note:**

> For real this time. My last fic /for now/ since grad school is starting really soon. And I guess all schools in general? Good luck in school!
> 
> Also, Halloween is a few months away so feel free to drop down any ideas :)


End file.
